


Have You Read The News, In The Soho Tribune?

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: The morning after finds Blackie and Mick evaluating themselves and their relationship with Nikki.*Sequel To Raising Hell At The Seventh Veil*
Relationships: Blackie Lawless/Mick Mars, Blackie Lawless/Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx, Blackie Lawless/Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Have You Read The News, In The Soho Tribune?

Blackie, in his defense, wasn't exactly known for his self-control. 

Ever since he was a kid who couldn't keep his hands out of the cookie jar, to a teenager who couldn't keep his hands off of the women, Blackie had never been congratulated for his self-control or his ability to say 'no' to things, mainly because, in truth, Blackie wanted _everything._ To the women in the crowd to the actual guys in his band, Blackie was selfish, and he wanted everything. 

Like the dragon that wanted all the jewels, Blackie wanted it, _needed_ it, craved it in a way that seemed eerily similar to a druggie yearning for his drugs. He would die if he wasn't with the things, the people, he needed so bad. And like every other person with such inclinations, Blackie had his favorite. 

Sure, Blackie liked the women he slept with. He _enjoyed_ them, like a desert that he'd leisurely made his way through. He _liked_ the guys that he slept with, albeit with slightly less joy because they never quite yearned for his attention in the way that the women did. Blackie didn't like that, not being wanted. It made him feel pathetic whenever he had to chase after somebody, because they were never worth it. The looks never quite matched the mind. 

Of course, that was before Nikki came long. Blackie hated to get all sappy and lovey-dovey, because that sort of shit made him want to throw up, but, before that magnificent, green-eyed devil had infiltrated his life, Blackie had never experienced love. He'd just felt infatuation. But then Nikki had come in and, without warning, Blackie had begun to feel all sorts of ways. 

Nikki didn't chase. Nikki didn't love. He just smirked and told Blackie that, if he was so horny, why didn't Blackie just fuck him? And Blackie had asked if he was nuts and Nikki had cackled and just lit his cigarette with that knowing look in his eyes, and Blackie had been helpless, hopeless, so fucking stupid. 

Sometimes, Blackie wondered why he'd done it. Nikki was gorgeous and he was talented and he was mean but Blackie didn't usually stay after everything was said and done. But they'd done it again, and again, and again, and then Blackie had gotten attached, and leaving after the fuck had turned into holding Nikki in the middle of the night, and then too much had happened for nothing to happen. 

Now, Blackie was in bed with one man who he knew as well as the back of his hand and another who still remained as complex and mysterious as the day they'd met, and Blackie fucking hated that, but he simply drank his coffee and smirked at the remembrance of the night's events. 

"What the hell... happened last night?" Mick Mars said, confused and unsure and with the grim fear of a man who really didn't know what to make of a situation that he hadn't expected. He pulled the sheet up until it covered his naked legs. 

Blackie chuckled, low in his chest. "Well, you and I have one thing in common, don't we?" He said in a mild tone. Blackie didn't say anything else, just leaned over and offered the cigarette. 

For a minute, Mick seemed to have a mental debate with himself in his head, and then he sighed, and took the cigarette. "Fucking crazy ass fuckers." He muttered.

"Oh, you bet." Blackie allowed himself to grin, broadly and with his sharp canines shining in the light. He tossed his hair out of his face. "You didn't seem so confused last night, Mars." He said, accepting the cigarette back with a steady, firm hand. 

The corner of Mick's lip twitched. "Fuckin' Nik and his stupid friends." He replied.

"You say that now." Blackie stood up, pausing and stretching, letting the cold air hit his bare stomach. "But when Nikki has you, he ain't gonna let'cha go." 

"Tell me about it." Mick looked down at his lap. "I'm going to ask you a question, and you tell me the truth, okay?" He said.

Blackie shrugged. "Depends on the question." He wondered, vaguely, if that blonde that he'd seen earlier had gotten up yet and brewed some coffee. 

"What the fuck are you and Nikki?" Mick asked sharply. 

An answer leapt out immediately, but Blackie kept his lips sealed tightly. He couldn't imagine that Mick would understand his answer, not in the basic ways, but in the _understanding_ ways. Bless his heart, Blackie was sure that Mick thought that he and Nik were just fuck buddies. 

In truth, Blackie was pretty sure that they had made more of an imprint than that. 

After all, they'd been seeing each other for...seven years? Blackie couldn't be damned to know that, but the point was, he had grown to think of Nikki in a way that words didn't describe. Blackie couldn't describe it, even now. But Mick wanted an answer, didn't he? And Blackie couldn't leave him hanging out to dry. 

"We're together, but we aren't _together."_ Blackie finally said. "I mean, I'm attached to the guy, ever seen somebody write letters while trying to write songs? It's terrible, by the way, but I don't just write letters for nobody, and Nikki... Hell, even if I didn't know him, he ain't just nobody." Blackie propped himself up against the wall, his arms crossed. 

Mick looked stoic. "I know that, Einstein." He said. "Everybody who spends five minutes with the guy knows _that."_ Mick shook his head, looking mystified. 

"Maybe." Blackie replied, tilting his chin up. "But ain't nobody know him like me." 

"Oh? Enlighten me." Mick was angry, Blackie knew. And, truth be told, Blackie couldn't discount that anger. Mick had just done some weird fucking things, all in the name of love, and now he was trying to wrap his head around it, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do from there. 

And Blackie was loving every fucking minute of it. "But I don't know him as well anymore." He admitted. 

"What are you talking about?" Mick asked. 

There was a faint hope when Blackie had come to LA that Nikki wouldn't be as far gone. Of course Blackie had heard about the wild tales on the Sunset Strip, but who hadn't? Back when they'd been in Sister together, Nikki had been the wise one, similar to Mick now. Nikki had been calm, under control, the one who scheduled gigs and then unscheduled them because Randy was being an asshole or because Lizzy had gambled away his guitar. 

Nikki, of course, had been on drugs, but he hadn't been bad. He didn't depend on them, didn't lean on them like an old friend at a bar. Now, Blackie feared, he was, and it was too late to stop a runaway train. 

London had been where Nikki had really started to fall deep, and Blackie had been helpless. He wasn't exactly clean when it came to drugs, but, goddamn, Nik was about as gone as the wind, especially after his and Blackie's long silence towards each other. 

"He's...different. Hot and cold, mean and sweet." Blackie said. "He accused me of being a cult leader and then hid under the bed. I had to coax him out like a fucking cat and then show him all my tattoos because he thought that all cult leaders had this one certain tattoo...or something." He shrugged. 

"Yeah." Mick said. 

"But he's still Nikki. Deep down. You can always tell by his eyes. They're the window to his soul." Blackie looked at Nikki, curled on his site amongst the blankets, dark, inky hair spread around his head, makeup smeared and looking as if he'd exerted all of his energy to the night before. 

Beneath the trail marks and the effortless effort to be beautiful, that was Nikki. 

And Blackie needed to accept that. 

Even though it hurt and it made Blackie worry because Nikki couldn't do this forever. But Blackie couldn't stop the runaway train, and he couldn't save somebody who didn't know that he needed to be saved. But Blackie had sworn to never leave Nikki, and he couldn't go back on that promise. 

No matter what happened. 

Mick stared at him for a long minute, his dark eyes piercing and wandering. He was intelligent, Blackie knew. Much more than Blackie had previously given him credit for. "What are _you two?"_ Blackie asked with a grin. "One minute, Nikki is all tough and alone, and then he's got...you." Blackie gestured to Mick, who scowled. 

"I don't fucking know." Mick replied harshly. 

"That's okay." Blackie somehow managed to find his pants and shirt amongst the mess that was the bedroom. "Nobody has to know everything at all times, Mars." 

Blackie pulled on his pants, watching as Mick's eyes briefly flickered over his body before slipping away. "Like what you see?" Blackie teased, pulling his shirt back over his head. 

"You're an ugly fucker." Mick remarked dryly. 

Tossing his head back, Blackie cackled. "You're real fun, Mars." He said. "Last night was fun, too. I gotta admit, man, when Nikki asked me to involve you....I was hesitant. But it turns out that Nikki was right for once in his life." Blackie snickered, and he looked around for his leather jacket, tossed somewhere doing the night without a care in the world. 

"What now?" Mick asked, and he sounded hesitant, slightly afraid of the answer.

"I dunno." Blackie replied. "But if Nik ever wanted to do it again, I wouldn't be the one complaining." He paused. "Would you?" 

Mick shook his head. "Well, no." He answered. "Fuck no." Mick looked down at the prone man beside him. It was a wonder, Blackie couldn't help but think, that Nikki hadn't woken up at the sound of their voices, but he supposed that it was just another thing he had to get used to. 

"Y' going?" Mick said, returning his sharp gaze to Blackie, watching his every move, looking as if he quite wanted his hopes to come true. 

"Yeah. Gonna go to The Windy City." Blackie replied. 

Nodding slowly, Mick seemed to debate internally with himself. He picked at a loose thread on the sheet. "You want me to leave?" He asked. 

"Hmm? No." Blackie found his jacket, half-tucked underneath the bed, its arm sticking out. 

"You want me to wake him up?" Mick jolted his head toward Nikki. 

Blackie shook his head. "Nah. He hasn't slept in awhile, has he?" 

"No." Mick answered. 

"Let 'im sleep." Blackie looked around the cluttered, messy room. He chewed on the inside of his lip, and then walked over to the nightstand. He opened the drawer and looked inside, finding a switchblade, a small notebook full of lyrics that Blackie couldn't read, a lighter, and a pen. 

Blackie pocketed the switchblade, ripped a page from the notebook and grabbed the pen. "He'll probably threaten to kick my ass." He muttered, humored, and he pressed the paper against the wall so he could begin to write as Mick watched. 

Silence fell, besides from the scratching of the pen against the wall and their own breathing. Nikki snuffled and buried his face against the pillow. Mick didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything. Blackie stood there, tongue between his teeth, looking over his writing, distorted from the bumpy wall. 

Last night, Blackie had to admit, had been fucking fantastic. But he had to return back to his reality now. 

"But soon, I'll be back, Mars." Blackie handed Mick the paper, winked, and pressed his index finger against his lips. "No peeking." Blackie grabbed his shoes, and took one last look at Nikki. 

Nikki had changed, more than Blackie could freely admit. His hair was longer and his mind was tortured and there was a lot more scars that Blackie didn't have any answers for. But he would have to settle for Nikki as he was, beautiful and broken and believing that things were okay when they weren't okay, not at all. 

In truth, Blackie really didn't want to go. He wanted to touch Nikki's stomach and kiss his lips and hear Nikki whimper underneath his touch. But there was no time left. Blackie walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled the blankets up until they were covering Nikki, at least somewhat. And then he looked up at Mick, and raised his eyebrows. 

"I'll be seeing you real soon, Mars." Blackie said with a smirk, not allowing for the other man to see the hesitancy when Blackie pressed his lips against Nikki's cheek and then stood up, opening the door and slipping out, gone as fast as he'd appeared the night before. 

_Nikko,_

_God, how time flies. I wish last night could've lasted forever. I admit that I hadn't exactly thought that M. Mars would've made a good addition, but looks like I was wrong, huh? The magic words! Bet you've been waiting to hear that one..._ _Anyways, I left while you were sleeping because you haven't slept in awhile. I decided to be sweet but you'll probably rip me a new one over the 'phone. Can't blame you. I'm gonna go the windy city now. I'll call you when I can. You and me and Liz need to get together sometime (no, not in that way)._

_Last night was fucking fantastic and it was all because of you, Nikky. I missed you like crazy. You felt so good. Lord knows that I've missed more than your body tho._

_I've missed YOU like crazy, man. Missed your laugh and smile and fucking face. I'm going soft, man, for YOU. M. Mars and I have that in common at least, right? I wish I didn't have to leave. I'd fucking take you with me if I could. But we were together last night and I can't stretch my luck._

_You don't want me to say it so I won't. But I really fucking like you. More than I ever have anybody before. But it looks like things are starting get a little complicated, ain't it, Nikky?_

_I'm always thinking about you, even when you drive me crazy -_

_B. Lawless._

_PS - I saw the scars. Didn't ask, but am thinking bout them. Just so you know._

_PS 2- That drummer boy looks pretty. Next time?_


End file.
